


Dark Night, Bright Stars

by xfsista



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Curses, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Infertility, Malfoy Family, Marriage, Romance, Snarky Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 08:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14891084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xfsista/pseuds/xfsista
Summary: Tired of carrying on in secret, Draco and Hermione make their relationship a public affair. But their romance isn’t welcome by everyone and leads them to face their biggest and most painful obstacle yet.





	Dark Night, Bright Stars

“ _The darker the night, the brighter the stars…_ ” -Dostoyevsky, _Crime and Punishment_

***

BANG!

The door to Draco Malfoy's office slammed open hard, bouncing off the wall and nearly closing back on the angry face of the woman who had swung it open with such force. His mouth twitched, and he was tempted to laugh at her frazzled appearance as she scrambled to slap the door away from her again. Somehow, he managed to hold a stoic expression and raised his eyebrow slowly.

"Granger? To what do I owe this... pleasure?" he asked, twisting his mouth around the word indictating that it was anything but pleasurable.

She waved about a heavy looking folder thick with parchment. "What is this?" 

"By the looks of it, I'd say it was a file."

Stomping over toward him, she slammed the file on his desk, scattered parchment everywhere and spilling a small bottle of ink. 

"Damn it, Granger!"

"Why are you petitioning to rezone the centaur colony in the Forbidden Forest?" she demanded. 

He looked at her incredulously. "It's my job, Granger."

"What?" she huffed. " To ruin the lives of innocent creatures?"

"I'd hardly call them innocent," he mumbled.

"What was that?"

Draco shook his head. "Nothing. Look, I'm just doing what the Ministry pays me to do."

"Well, the Ministry pays me to work in the Centaur Liaison Office, and now I'm the one that has to go straighten this mess out. They're never going to agree to this."

"Granger, I don't know why you bother. The Centaur Office is a hippogriff shit position, and you know it."

"Just because no one around here takes it seriously doesn't mean it shouldn't be!" she insisted.

Sighing dramatically, Draco stood and waved his wand toward the door, shutting and locking it.

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously as he walked around her and settled his hands on her shoulders.

“You’re stressed,” he said, kneading his thumbs into her tense muscles.

“Draco,” she moaned, “we made a deal. Not at work.” 

“We’re not doing anything,” he murmured as he brushed aside her hair and placed a soft kiss on her neck. Her neck lolled to the side on its own accord. 

The familiar tug of desire pooled low in her belly as his fingers skimmed her thighs at the hem of her sensible skirt. 

“Draco,” she said warningly as he began sliding the material up.

“The door’s locked,” he assured her.

She looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. “I’m still angry with you.”

He smirked and nipped at her ear. “I know,” he said, sounding not the least bit sorry at all. Then, he slipped his thumbs in the waistband of her knickers and pushed them down to her knees baring her to the cool air of his office. Cupping her sex with his right hand, he slipped his fingers through her folds.

Hermione whimped.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he said with a groan as he darted out his tongue to lick at the skin behind her ear.

She stumbled forward, and he awkwardly guided her towards the desk until she was leaning over it.

“Hold on, baby.”

Unzipping his trousers, he released his cock and thrust into her roughly. Hermione cried out as he stretched the walls of her cunt. 

“Shh,” he whispered. “I didn’t put a silencing charm up.”

But she couldn’t help it. With each hard snap of his hips, his balls would sway forward and slap hard against her clit deliciously. She also found herself highly aroused by the thought that just beyond that office door, her co-workers were going about their business not knowing that she was fucking Draco Malfoy just mere metres away.

So, she moaned and keened without control as she tried to hold herself upright against his desk, but managing only to push parchment and quills to the floor.

“Fucking hell, Granger,” Draco bitched as he shoved a scrap of material into her mouth. She clamped her teeth against the silk and let out a scream that was now muffled as she came hard around his cock before collapsing face first on his desk.

“Shitfuckdamn!” he grunted, spilling his seed inside her. He fell forward until he was draped over her back and buried his nose in her hair.

Trying to catch her breath, Hermione spat out the charcoal grey material from her mouth. “Your tie? Really?”

“I had to shut you up somehow. Otherwise, the whole Ministry would’ve known what we were up to.”

A pensive look crossed her face.

“What?” he asked.

“I just… Don’t you ever get tired of hiding? This thing between us, I mean?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he slowly lifted himself off her, hissing when he pulled himself out of her. That was her answer, she supposed. She tried to hide her disappointment.

Quietly, they cleaned themselves up and righted their clothing. He offered her water from the mini-bar he kept in his office. When they were through, it was as if it had all been erased and had never happened. No one would ever know.

Picking up her file, she turned toward the door. She began to turn the handle, but was stopped by his voice.

“Granger?”

Hermione turned her head, but didn’t fully look at him. “Yes?”

“Marry me.”

Suddenly, it was if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes snapped to his.

“What?” she tried to say, but it came out as a mere whisper.

“I’m tired of hiding, too. So fucking tired.” Draco’s gaze was intense and focused on her. “I’m tired of walking by you every day and not being able to kiss you or tell you that you’re beautiful or, hell, even act like I notice you. I’m tired of other men thinking that it’s okay to ask you out. I’m tired of not being able to tell people that you’re my girl.”

“I’m your girl?”

“Yes!” he replied passionately. Then, he looked a little uncertain. “Well, if you want to be.”

Hermione’s eyes became glossy with unshed tears. With a small smile, she said, “Yes. I want to be.”

Stepping around his desk, he went to her and gathered her up in his arms. He kissed the delicate skin under her ear, then said softly, “I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you,” before claiming her lips with his own.

***

To say their relationship shocked the wizarding world was an understatement. It was spun as quite the romantic tale in the papers as the Malfoy heir was giving up centuries of pureblood status to be with the woman he loved.

Within their own circles, the feelings were a little less than sweet. At least initially.

When word first got out, Harry and Ron were angry with Hermione for keeping something so big from them, and they were livid that it was Malfoy of all people. There were threats of hexes and nasty accusations aplenty, but within a few weeks, Harry began to relent as he saw how much Hermione really cared for the pale git. Ron eventually, and very begrudgingly, followed Harry’s lead, but made it painfully clear that he would be keeping an eye on Malfoy because he still didn’t trust him.

As for Draco’s friends, he really only had Theo Nott, and while Theo didn’t see Granger as someone he’d marry himself, the Slytherin in him could see the advantages of marrying her. Draco just rolled his eyes and said, “Yes, because practicality is what I’m looking for in a wife.”

The real struggle for Draco was with his parents. Going against hundreds of years of tradition was serious business in their eyes, and they thought he was making a foolish mistake. Lucius threatened to cut him off from his inheritance, and much to his shock, Draco just nodded.

“Why you insolent-“

“Lucius,” Narcissa interrupted. “He clearly loves the girl. Perhaps we should just accept that.”

“Have you gone mad, Cissy? He’s throwing everything away,” Lucius said as if Draco wasn’t standing in the room with them.

“I did not risk my life and lie to the Dark Lord to save my son then just so I could lose him now,” she said with tears in her eyes. Turning to Draco, she continued, “She wouldn’t have been my choice for you, Draco, but if you love her, then do as you please.”

They could have easily had a huge wedding, one to outdo others for decades to come. But they were tired of the attention, so they had an awkward and unusual mix of people at their small wedding feast. Lucius had still refused to attend, but his mother had come, and they took it as a small victory. 

A hand appeared in front of Hermione. “Would you like to dance, Mrs. Malfoy?” 

Looking up into the eyes of her new husband, she smiled, her heart bursting with joy. “I’d be delighted, Mr. Malfoy.”

He guided her to the middle of the dance floor and pulled her close. The soft music of the stringed instruments floated across the room and they began gliding in tandem. She buried her nose into his starched collar and inhaled committing the smell of him to memory. The warmth of her husband’s muscles under her hands as they danced, the way he smelled, the sound of his heart under her ear - these were moments she never wanted to forget. 

She had a husband! Hermione Granger was a married woman. And she was married to Draco Malfoy. It was a funny sort of life, she supposed. Who would have thought it?

“MUDBLOOD!”

The shout was full of venom and madness and chilled her to the bone. She jerked her head toward the door and saw Lucius Malfoy standing there with a wicked glint in his eye and his wand in hand.

“You may have taken my son, but you will not take the Malfoy name! _Sanctimonia vincet semper_!”

Just as Harry had started to ambush him from behind, Lucius flicked his wrist, and a jet of yellow shot from his wand toward her abdomen. A burning pain spread through her womb, and she clawed at her stomach in agony. Her screams were gut-wrenching, and she would’ve fallen to the floor had Draco not been there to catch her.

“Help me!” he cried. “Somebody, help me!”

The look of terror on his face was the last thing she saw before it all went blissfully black.

***

Draco stared at Hermione’s still form as she lay in a bed in the Spell Damage ward of St. Mungo’s; her breathing appeared shallow, but steady, and her complexion was pale and waxy. The healers had done all they could do, and now they were waiting for her body to recover from the trauma and wake herself up.

He held her hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over the ring he had placed on her finger just hours before. This was not how they were supposed to spend their wedding night. The rage he felt toward his father frightened him, and had his need to be near Hermione not been greater, there was no doubt in his mind he would’ve done something that would have landed him in Azkaban. Even thinking of it now was enough to raise his blood pressure.

“Draco?”

Her voice was thin and small, and he felt a protective instinct deep down that he never realized he had before. Suddenly, he wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool and put enchantments all around her because she was _his_ and no one had a right to try and hurt her or take her from him.

“Hey,” he greeted softly. “How are you feeling?”

“A little groggy.”

“That’s probably from the potions.” He gave her a cheeky smile. “They gave you enough to knock out a hippogriff.”

“My abdomen is sore,” she said rubbing her lower belly.

The smile disappeared from his face.

“What do you remember?”

“Your father. He hexed me.” Hermione fixed him with a wide stare. “What did he do to me?” she asked with a hint of panic.

Draco’s throat knotted up, and the feelings of fury and guilt clutched his insides like a vice. He opened his mouth to speak, but looking in her eyes was too much for him to bear. Turning his gaze back to her hand, he finally told her what the healers had explained to him earlier.

“He placed a curse on you so you can never carry a child.”

Hermione let out a grief stricken howl as if she had been wounded all over again. The sound felt like it went right through him and stabbed him in the gut, and all the feelings of anger, guilt, and his need to protect her overwhelmed him once more. Gently, he climbed into the narrow bed with her and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m going to fix this,” he promised fervently. 

“How?” she wailed.

“I don’t know yet, but I’m a Malfoy, and we have means and resources. There has to be way. Curses are cured all the time.”

Hermione pulled her face from his neck, her eyes and nose red and puffy, and her face wet with tears. She brushed her fingers over his cheeks, and he was surprised to realize that he was crying, too.

“I love you,” she said with a tremulous voice and hugged him close again.

In that moment, he knew he could not rest until he made things right again.

***

The halls of the Ministry were dark and silent, and the only sound was the soft clicking of his shoes on the green tiles. It was well into the wee hours of the morning as Harry made his way back to his office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It had been a long night of questioning Lucius Malfoy and getting no answers. 

He unlocked his office and walked in and was startled by Draco sitting in his chair.

“God, Malfoy! You scared the shit out of me.”

“I need to see him,” Draco said flatly.

Harry shook his head and sighed. “What you need is to go home and get some sleep. You look like hell.” It wasn’t a lie. Malfoy’s clothes were wrinkled and his hair was disheveled. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and he needed a shave.

“Potter, don’t fuck with me on this. I _have_ to speak to him!”

“I can’t allow it, Malfoy. There’s protocol—“

Draco suddenly stood knocking the chair to the floor. “Fuck you, and fuck your protocol!” he shouted. “This is not some random case of yours! This is Hermione!”

“You don’t think I know that?!” Harry yelled. “It took every ounce of calm I possess to keep from knocking the shit out of the man when I had to question him! Ron’s so livid, we were afraid to let him in the interrogation room at all. What makes you think that letting _you_ in is a good idea?”

“One question. That’s all I ask for – one question.” Draco’s eyes were pleading.

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. One question. Maybe you’ll get something out of him.”

Harry escorted Draco deep into the bowels of the Ministry where there were a handful of holding cells. Lucius was the only prisoner awaiting transfer to Azkaban and was currently lying in the first cell. When he heard the men approach, he raised his head to see who had come to bother him now. When he saw his son, he sat up.

“Draco,” he greeted almost jovially. “I wondered how long it would be before I saw you.”

Draco swallowed hard and stared at his father. “Why?”

Lucius looked at his son hard and long. “I was protecting my family, something about which you obviously no longer care.”

“She _is_ my family,” Draco snarled. “And I protect what’s mine.”

His father’s brow crinkled almost imperceptibly.

“Tell us more about the curse, Malfoy?” Harry asked Lucius. “What is ‘ _sanctimonia vincet semper_ ’?”

“That’s not the curse, Potter,” Draco informed him. “It’s from the Malfoy family crest.”

“Purity will always conquer,” Lucius said quietly.

“Not this time,” said Draco. “Let’s go, Potter.”

***

Hermione lounged in the back garden of their comfortable country house with a book resting on her lap. It was late spring, and the sun was warm and felt comforting on her skin. She looked out on the horizon and caught site of a tawny owl flying toward her. It circled overhead twice before finally landing on the arm of her chair. She took the letter from the bird, and he flew away before she could even begin to find him a treat.

The envelope was addressed to Draco, and she sighed when she saw who it was from. He wouldn’t be very happy. Resignedly, she stood and took the letter into the house.

As usual, she found her husband at his desk in their small home library with quill and parchment in hand. He looked brittle and worn.

“Draco, you have an owl post.”

His head snapped up, his eyebrows were raised hopefully. “Who’s it from?”

“Your father.”

A shadow passed across his expression. “Burn it.”

“Draco, it’s been two years.”

“So?” he spat. “He’s the one that’s causing us a lifetime of misery.”

“But we don’t have to let him,” she insisted. He looked like he didn’t understand, so she continued. “Draco, I feel like I’m losing you.”

He shook his head. “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

“Physically, yes, but all you do is research curses and potions and write letters. And I _know_ you’ve been making trips to Knockturn Alley to talk to God only knows what kind of people. This has become an obsession!”

“I _have_ to make this right!”

Hermione stepped around the desk and took his face in her hands, the slight stubble scratching her palms. “Draco, I would love to have your children. More than anything. But I don’t want to waste our lives searching for something that might be impossible. I want children, but I also want you. I miss you.”

Swallowing hard, he pulled her down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked thickly.

“Yes,” she murmured.

“Alright,” he said as he hugged her tightly. His heart ached as he mentally said goodbye to the children they would never have.

***

Several weeks later, things finally felt like they were improving for the two. Together, they were able to mourn their loss and begin to move on with their life. Things had been lighter and there had been increasing moments of happiness. Hermione even began entertaining the thought of adoption at some point later down the road, but she wasn’t ready to bring up the idea to Draco just yet.

She was in the library looking for a book when something caught her eye. Under Draco’s desk was a corner of parchment, just innocently sticking out. It was the letter from his father. Hermione realized she must have dropped it when she brought it to Draco weeks before.

Picking it up, she stared at it for long time. Biting her lower lip, she broke the seal and her eyes widened as she scanned the words on the parchment. Stunned, she read it a second time. Then, a third.

Folding it neatly, she stood and went to find her cloak.

She had to go to Azkaban right now. She had to see Lucius Malfoy.

***

Lucius Malfoy was nothing more than a shadow of his former self. His once thick, shiny blond hair fell lankly around his shoulders; his complexion was grey and wan with bruised skin around his eyes. He no longer carried himself in a proud, haughty manner. Now, his shoulders drooped and his gait was slowed by shackles and chains.

There was a glint of surprise in his eyes when he saw her sitting at the table in the prison meeting room.

Lucius took the seat across from hers and nodded his head slightly.

“Miss Granger,” he greeted.

“It’s Mrs. Malfoy, to you,” she said curtly.

“Touché,” he said.

Pulling the letter from her handbag, she unfolded it and placed it flat on the table. Staring him in the eyes, she asked, “Did you mean what you wrote here?”

“That letter was intended for my son, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“If it was left up to your son, this letter would have gone up in flames along with every other letter you’ve sent over the last two years. Not to mention the fact that the contents of this letter also concern me. So, I ask again, is what you wrote here the truth?”

“Yes.”

Blinking back tears, Hermione asked, “Why? After what you did, why would you…?”

“I did what I did because I thought I was protecting my family. Draco said you were… _are_ his family. I realized too late that made you my family, too. I hurt my own family. I’m trying to fix that.”

Hermione sat quietly and took in what he said. “You caused a lot of hurt,” she told him.

“I know.”

“Even if this works, I don’t know if Draco will ever forgive you.”

“I know,” Lucius said with a slight nod.

Nodding, Hermione picked up the letter, stood up, and walked out.

***

“Where have you been?! You’ve been gone all day, and you didn’t leave a note. I thought you had been abducted or something. I was ready to floo Potter!”

“I.. I was out,” Hermione said. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Something in her voice was worrisome, and it made his heart give a funny little flip. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“You’re going to be angry.”

“Why?”

“I…” She paused and took a deep breath. “I went to see your father.”

If he was livid before, now he was downright apoplectic. 

“What?! What in the fucking hell would you do that for? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Draco!”

“No, I want to know what on earth would possess you to even think about doing something so fantastically stupid?”

Grabbing her bag, she pulled the letter out and handed it to him. “Read this!”

“I told you to burn that!”

She shook the parchment at him, and he snatched it from her. Crossing her arms, Hermione watched as he read the words that she had several times earlier today.

When he finished, Draco crumpled it up and shook his head. “He’s lying.”

“I don’t think he is, Draco.”

“It’s got to be a trick. He’s trying to hurt you again. Maybe permanently this time.”

“Draco—“

“No, Granger! He hurt you,” he said, enunciating each word. “He hurt you in a terrible way because of some fucked up logic about family. So, excuse me for being a little paranoid about his intentions now.”

“I know that, Draco! That’s why I went to see him. I needed to hear it for myself, and I believe him.”

“Of course you do,” Draco muttered under his breath.

“What’s that?”

“I bet he played you like a fucking violin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not a naïve schoolgirl!”

Draco clenched his fists and released them. “I’m not saying you are, Granger. I’m saying that you are a supremely kind person who sees the good in people, and Lucius Malfoy is a master manipulator.”

Hermione let out a quick breath. “Regardless, it really doesn’t matter. It’s my choice, and I’ve already obtained the potion from the family vaults.”

She didn’t think it was possible for Draco to go any paler, but he did. “Fucking hell, Granger. What was the point of even telling me? You’re just going to do what you want anyway!”

“I’m telling you because you’re my husband and I love you!” she shouted with tears in her eyes.

“I love you, too,” he said firmly. “That’s why I don’t want to see you get hurt again.” Dropping his head, he stared at the shiny tips of his shoes. The only sound in the room was her sniffles.

After a moment, he said, “At least get the potion analyzed first.”

“I already am,” she said. “I told you I’m not naïve.”

“I know you’re not,” he responded lightly. He reached out and tugged her gently toward him until she stumbled into his arms.

***

It was a long, tense week waiting for the potion analysis to come back. Hermione was alone when she got word from her healer, Padma Patil, to come in. Briefly, she considered going in to see her alone, but with things already being somewhat strained between her and Draco, she knew that it would be best if she offered to let him come with her.

They sat together in Padma’s office waiting for her to finish up with another patient. Although there were only a few inches between their chairs, Hermione felt as if a chasm separated them.

The door clicked open and roused her from her thoughts.

“I apologise for my tardiness,” Padma said as she rounded her desk and took a seat across from them. “Healer Clearwater is out on holiday this week, and we’re a bit short staffed.” She smiled at them. “Now, about this potion...” she trailed off as she pulled a file from her desk and began leafing through it.

Hermione sat a little straighter in her seat, and she could feel Draco tensing beside her.

“Apparently, it was quite difficult for our potioneers to break down, but once they did, they didn’t find anything that would be deemed harmful.”

Hermione sighed in relief.

“Will it... Do you think it would reverse the effects of the curse?” Draco asked.

“Well, there are certainly healing properties to many of the ingredients,” Padma said, “but I’m not a curse breaker, and we never did determine the actual origin of the curse itself. Unfortunately, the results are inconclusive.”

“But the potion is okay to try?” Hermione asked hopefully.

“I see no harm in taking it,” Padma said, “but I wouldn’t pin all my hopes on it.”

Draco nodded and stood holding his hand out to Hermione. She took his hand and allowed him to help her up.

“Thank you, Padma,” she said quietly and followed her husband out the door.

***

That evening, they had a quiet dinner together, then lounged in front of the fire on the sofa. Draco sat upright as Hermione lay down with her head resting on his thigh while he ran his fingers through her hair soothingly.

“Draco,” Hermione said interrupting the silence. 

“Hmm?”

“I was thinking... Whether the potion works or not, I think I’d like to adopt a child.”

His fingers stopped stroking her scalp.

“There are so many children, Draco,” she rushed out. “Perfectly wonderful children, and they have no one! I mean, look at Teddy! And... and, we could give one so much love and—“

Draco placed his fingers over her lips. “You’re rambling,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice.

She rolled onto her back so she could look up at his face. “What do you think?”

He brushed her hair away from her face and rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. “I think it’s a noble idea.”

“But?” she asked waiting for his objection.

“No ‘buts.’ I think it’s a good idea,” he replied.

“You do?!” she exclaimed, sitting up suddenly almost head-butting him in the nose.

Laughing, he said, “Yes, you crazy witch!”

Grabbing his face between her hands, she began peppering little kisses all over his face. Pulling her tight against him, he managed to slow her down enough to capture her lips for a proper snog. He sucked her lower lip between his and slid his tongue along the plump flesh. He released her lip with a quiet pop, and she quickly chased his mouth with her own to seal them together once more.

When they came up for air, she was deliciously flushed and her mouth swollen from his ministrations. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” he murmured. Kissing her once more, he stood and helped her when she wobbled.

“Are you going to swoon?” he teased.

She slapped his chest. “I got a cramp in my foot, you prat.”

Without warning, he bent down and scooped her up in his arms causing her to squawk in a very unladylike manner.

“Draco!”

“Shh! I’m trying to be chivalrous and manly.”

“Don’t drop me,” she whined.

“Merlin, have a little bit of faith, Granger.”

Despite Hermione’s fears, they made it to the bedroom without Draco having so much as a muscle twitch. He set her down gently on the end of the bed and kneeled before her.

“I told you to have faith, m’lady,” he said, his grey eyes shining with mirth.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward for a brief kiss. “I’ll never misjudge you again, m’lord husband.” 

“While I’m down here...” He pushed her back on the bed softly and reached up to unbuttoned her jeans. He pressed a kiss next to her navel, and pulled the material down over her hips, her thighs, and to the floor. 

“That wasn’t very chivalrous, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Oh? Wasn’t it?” He grabbed her thighs and pressed them apart. “Tsk, tsk. Shame on me. How about this?” 

He pushed the material of her knickers to the side and pressed his mouth to her pussy. Hermione mewled and arched her pelvis up to meet his tongue. Draco put his right hand on her stomach to try and hold in place. Languidly, he licked and sucked her up and down at a maddening, but tantalising pace, but never penetrating and never touching where she needed it the most.

“Draco,” she begged. “Draco, please!”

Finally, he pushed two fingers inside her cunt and flicked his tongue rapidly over her clit. Curling his fingers upward, he fucked her hard, and the pressure began to build to an almost painful crescendo before finally releasing. She cried out as her internal muscles spasmed around Draco’s fingers and a flood of juices flowed from her body.

“Oh my God,” she said as her thighs clamped around Draco’s head.

Draco tenderly lapped at her folds until she calmed down from her orgasm.

“Enough,” she whimpered, pushing at his head. “Too sensitive.”

He kissed her inner thigh and moved up her body to kiss her mouth. She could taste herself on his tongue.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he whispered between kisses. “How did I manage to snag such a sexy wife?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess,” she said with a satisfied smirk.

“Quite,” he agreed.

Hermione started unbuttoning his shirt. “You’re overdressed.”

“As are you.”

Leisurely, they undressed one another with reverence and great care, taking time to kiss and stroke each bit of skin revealed. Hermione sat up on her knees and reached for a phial on the nightstand. The potion was a deep claret colour and seemed to glow from within.

Draco sat up with her and looked deep into her eyes and leaned forward to kiss her lips, then her collarbone. Pulling back, he watched as she drank the glittery liquid down. When she finished, he captured her mouth once more tasting the sweet remnants of the potion still on her tongue.

Together, they tumbled back down onto the bed. Hermione reached between them and wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked him firmly. Draco groaned into her mouth. Pushing him onto his back, she straddled him and rubbed her wet sex over the underside of his cock. Eager to be in her, Draco slowed her down and positioned himself at her entrance and pushed into her wetness. 

Hermione felt so full and complete and _alive_. It was like all her nerve endings were on fire in the most wonderful way. She rocked her hips back and forth, then up and down, and repeated the process, gradually moving faster and faster. Draco dragged her down until they were chest to chest so he could kiss her.

Tired of not having complete control, he flipped them over so he was on top. Lacing his fingers through hers, he thrust deeply into her cunt causing her to cry out. Rolling his hips, he did it again, his eyes never leaving hers. She brought her legs up high, wrapping them around his back, the sweat from their bodies making them slide a little. 

She could tell Draco was getting close because his rhythm was becoming erratic. Pulling one of her hands from his, she slid it down under her leg and tugged at his balls. It was enough to send him tumbling over the edge with a grunt.

Collapsing on top of her, he said, “Fuck, that was a dirty move.”

Hermione chuckled. “I learned from the best.”

Still embedded inside her, he moved his own fingers between them and circled her clit. Soon, with curled toes and gripped sheets, she, too, came undone.

Later, with their faces still flushed and sweat yet to cool, they held each other close cautiously optimistic what the future might hold.

***

A year later, in a small, damp cell in Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy held a picture in his hand. The photo was of a family. There was his son, Draco, and his frizzy-haired Muggleborn wife. On Draco’s lap was a dark-skinned little girl of about two or three. In his wife’s arms was an infant boy with brown hair and big brown eyes just like his mother. They didn’t look like what one expected a Malfoy to be, but they were Malfoys just the same.

And they were his family.

***

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> This is another fic that Dehaev inquired about that had previously been exclusively posted at Hawthorn & Vine. I don't have the original notes, so I'm not entirely sure if it was attached to a challenge or what the elements of that may have been. :(
> 
> I'm just happy to have still had it on a flash drive! Huzzah!


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